Sad Movies and Snark
by angellwings
Summary: With Don's help, Sloan embarks on a mission to educate herself on sad movies. Sometimes she likes it, most of the time she just complains. Don actually enjoys it. Set in Seasons 2 and 3.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So in Season 2 Episode 4, Sloan tells Mac she saw Titanic for the first time because she avoids sad movies. For some reason, I started wondering when or why she suddenly saw Titanic and who she saw it with. Maybe it was Don, I thought. Why couldn't it be Don? And so I wrote this...Enjoy! There's so much more to come!

angellwings

Sad Movies & Snark

by angellwings

* * *

Titanic

* * *

Don had survived a rather startling observation this week. He didn't really know what to do with it. Or when it happened, how it happened—alright not how. The how was pretty obvious. The realization itself was enough to change his perspective on everything he thought he knew about himself but then there was the problem of what to do about it.

Should he do something about it? Would it be taken seriously if he did? What did he hope would come from it if he did something? Was he ready for the way it would change…everything if he did?

Too many questions and he had no answers. Well, one. He had one answer. It really fucking bothered him that Sloan had drinks with Nina Howard's book agent. That was the one answer he knew and the answer that started it all.

That day was barely different than any other he'd been living through lately. He'd been sitting in his office fixing his god damn squeaky chair for no reason, other than he needed something to physically do after Maggie and Troy Davis. Damage Control was his unintended field of expertise only he'd had no control over any of the damage he'd been suffering lately. It was making him crazy. So he decided to work on something he could control, his stupid fucking chair.

Then Sloan knocked on his door to ask advice and admit that she thought she was the leak about Will being taken off the 9/11 coverage. Those two things on their own would have been fine, but then she had to tell him how she was the leak. The second the sentence "A guy asked me to a wedding" left her mouth his stomach dropped.

That had never happened before. Yes, she'd caught him off guard before and there had been a moment or two while he was still with Maggie that he'd wished he was single so he could—but that wasn't the point. The point was he'd never seen it coming. Not really. He'd marked Sloan as off limits for a long time and he was only a couple of weeks past his break up with Maggie. There was no way he was going to start feeling things for anyone else that quickly.

So he'd thought. Because there was Sloan saying she'd almost gone on a date to a wedding and his brain was reacting as if she'd somehow betrayed him. Sloan was single. She could date. He didn't expect her not to, but he suddenly realized…he didn't like it. But he couldn't seem to really comprehend it at the time so he focused on the fact that the guy was a book agent. He wasn't sure why he decided to focus on that at the time, he supposed it kept him from thinking about why he didn't like the idea of Sloan dating. He could fool himself into thinking it was just because the guy was a book agent, at least temporarily. You know, until Will asked him why he cared.

"I'm not sure." Is what he said and it was the truth. He really wasn't. About anything. Not any more. Not ever. Definitely not about Sloan. Well, again, maybe that's not totally true.

He was sure about Sloan, herself. He was sure she was the smartest person he'd ever met. Not smartest woman, smartest person. She was so brilliant and sometimes she knew it but other times…other times she acted like she expected more of herself. It was infuriating yet endearing and baffling. How could a woman like Sloan so greatly underestimate her own ability?

She also cared greatly about people. People she didn't know, people she'd never meet, and even people she didn't like. She cared so much that it made her the most ethical person in any room. It was why she wasn't down the block making about three or four times what she was making at ACN. She was a pillar of ethics and loyalty and her unwillingness to move from that position had gotten her into trouble more than once. She proclaimed herself socially inept and sometimes she was, especially when it came to observing the men she chose to date with clear and unbiased eyes. But her lack of social skills never kept her from trying or caring or raising awareness, as futile as that awareness may be.

This is why he wasn't confused about how any of this happened. Because Sloan was baffling in the most phenomenal way. She astounded him with what she thought, how she felt, and the persistence with which she thought and felt and acted. It also didn't hurt that she was undeniably attractive. She was a rare person who was genuinely beautiful inside and out, and he didn't give a damn how much of a sap that made him.

But knowing how it happened didn't help him with how to move forward.

What was he supposed to do now that he knew he was halfway in love with Sloan Sabbith and he wasn't even dating her? Where did he take this from here? He was up from his desk and opening her office door before he knew what he was doing.

"Hey, pal," he said with a smirk, and an internal wince. Pal? What the fuck was that, Keefer?

"Hey," She said, yet her eyes never moved from her two computer monitors. "You know, Kodak is doing surprisingly well given how outdated the company's actual product is. I know this seems illogical but do you think nostalgia could play a part in how well Kodak performs—"

"Have you had dinner, yet?" He asked with an impatient huff.

"Wow, man, that could have been a Kodak moment right there and you just cut me off," Sloan said as her gaze shifted from the monitors to Don.

"Really?" He asked with a smirk at her mention of Kodak.

"You know, that expression means practically nothing now."

"Yes, I know. It's terribly sad. Poor Kodak," Don said in a flat tone. "Dinner?"

"Your show came down thirty minutes ago," Sloan said observantly. "What are you still doing here?"

Was she avoiding his question? While he struggled with that and how to respond he realized something else. "What am I still doing here? What are you still doing here? You weren't on with Will or Eliot tonight. You were done after Market Wrap Up."

"There's a late night showing of Titanic at the theater near my building. I'm biding my time," Sloan told him.

"Why?" Don asked in amusement.

"So I'm not at the theater like three hours early—"

"No, Professor," he said with a chuckle.

"Oh, you mean why Titanic?" Sloan asked.

He nodded and waited expectantly.

"I've never seen it because it seems like it would be sad—"

"It is."

"But I'm done being afraid of the unknown so I'm gonna woman the fuck up and confront it," Sloan said plainly as she returned to her monitors.

"Confront Titanic?" Don asked with a grin.

"As far as the Titanic is concerned I'm the damn iceberg."

Don winced and laughed awkwardly.

"Bad joke?" Sloan asked at the sound of his wince.

"Touchy joke," Don clarified. "Still funny, though. You don't like sad movies?"

"My brother made me watch Bambi as a kid but he didn't warn me about Bambi's mother," she explained. "So now I avoid sad movies."

"But some of the best movies are sad movies," he said with a shake of his head. "You've made references to George Bailey. I know you've seen It's A—"

"Only because my mother practically tied me to my chair every Christmas and force fed me cocoa while we all watched it together," Sloan said dismissively.

"Rudy?" Don asked.

"Is that a football movie?"

"Mask?"

"The one with Jim Carrey?"

"Jesus, no. Dirty Dozen? The scene with Trini Lopez?"

"Trini was the name of the yellow power ranger, right?"

"You know the yellow power ranger but you've never seen The Dirty Dozen? How the hell are we friends?"

"That's simple," Sloan said with a shrug. "I'm delightful."

"I'm making a list," Don told her. "A list of movies you need to see if you're gonna confront your issues with sad movies."

"Titanic is a good start," Sloan said as she glanced at her clock and started to pack up her things.

"Titanic is a terrible start," Don told her with a smirk. "But I feel like it's my duty to make sure you don't chicken out. I'm going with you."

"Fine," she told him. "We might have time to get a bite before. Isn't that why you came in here?"

He'd come in here to ask her to dinner, officially. But this scene that played out had reminded him of their friendship and of how well they work together when she's on Eliot's show and about how good this is for him. What if he screws up like every other relationship he'd had? He couldn't lose Sloan. Besides, with the guys she dated, she was too far out of his league. How could he compete with athletes and financial geniuses and book agents who work on commissions that are three times his salary? He couldn't. But you know what he could do? He could be a part of her life and she could continue to be a part of his.

Some risks were too great.

For the moment anyway.

"Yeah, I was headed out and wanted to know if you'd eaten yet."

"The answer is no," she told him. "There's a diner serving breakfast down the street. If you order me waffles, I'll order you an egg white omelet."

"I don't want an egg white omelet," he said with a furrowed brow.

"Neither do I," she said with a sigh. "But I'm doing an interview with a friend's healthy lifestyle magazine next week, as a favor, and I don't want it to be a lie when I say I order healthy foods when eating out."

"So, your solution is that I order what you want and you order what you don't want and then I eat the horrible tasteless healthy plate and you get to eat the good food?" Don asked with a quirked brow.

"Yes."

"That's just ridiculous," Don told her.

"Or is it deceptively smart?"

"No," he said immediately with a laugh. "For someone with an insane amount of IQ points, you're truly terrible at evil plotting."

"I'm taking that as a compliment," she said as she flashed him a dazzling smile.

"Just order the waffles," he told her. "It's 11:30 at night and we're going to be at a crappy 24 hour diner. No will know or see you eat waffles except me and you know I don't give a damn."

"Fine, but you're making me a liar," Sloan told him playfully as she breezed past him and out of her office.

He laughed quietly and took a moment to watch her walk away.

Yes, he was chicken shit and too scared to ask her out, but at least he had this. He had tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2: Goodbye, Mr. Chips_

* * *

"Turn it off."

"Sloan—"

"No, Don, shut it off right now."

"Why?" Don asked her with a sigh.

"He's just found the love of his life and there's still too much time left in the movie. Things can only go downhill from here," she told him as she got up and tossed away her empty beer bottle. "If we stop it here then he gets a happy ending. If we keep going then I don't know what the hell we're gonna see."

They were at her apartment on a Saturday watching the first movie on the list he finally made for her. It took him two weeks to make the list. He had to pick the best of old and new and they all needed to be classy, like Sloan. So, finally they were starting on it.

They had take out food spread across her coffee table as the movie continued to play. Don rolled his eyes and paused the movie. "Whether we watch it or not the rest of the movie does exist."

"No, it doesn't. Not if I never see it."

"I don't know if that means you're adorable or delusional."

"You think I'm adorable?" she asked with a grin.

"I said I didn't know if you were adorable or delusional," he clarified.

She glared at him and spoke in a voice that was much too calm. "You think I'm delusional?"

"There's no way out of this, is there?" Don asked nervously.

"If your answer is anything other than Sloan Sabbith is downright adorable then no."

"Okay, Sloan Sabbith is downright adorable," he repeated.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed another beer out of her fridge. "That answer means nothing now. It was said out of fear."

"Yeah, well, you're scary."

"Aw," she said with a bright smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said with a smirk.

She sat back down next to him and then took the remote from him before he could press play. "Tell me what happens."

"I'm not going to tell you what happens," Don said with a shake of his head.

"I am not going to press play unless I know how this movie ends."

"Seriously? Then why even watch it?" He asked with a huff.

"Tell. Me."

"No."

"Donald."

"Did you just call me—"

"Say it."

"Hold on, did you seriously just call me—"

"Say it."

He opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.

"Say it, Keefer."

He tried again to rebut and she talked over him and then suddenly they were both talking at once and then shouting at once and finally—

"Jesus Christ! She dies in childbirth, okay? You happy?" He yelled.

"Oh no! I didn't want to hear that! That can't be right!"

He said nothing and gave her a sympathetic look. "Sorry."

She smacked his shoulder with a financial journal she'd left on the coffee table before she spoke again. "I can't believe you made me watch this fucking movie!"

"Just because it's sad doesn't mean it isn't worth watching," Don told her. Just like being alone with her. It left him feeling a bit of despair afterward but he enjoyed it too much to stop.

She sighed but eventually nodded her agreement. "I can't deny your logic. Fine." She savagely pressed play. "But I'm not happy about this, Donald."

"Please stop calling me Donald," he said with a shake of his head.

"Do you hate it?" She asked.

He gave her a look that clearly stated she already knew the answer.

"Oh good, then I'll keep doing it."


	3. Chapter 3

_Old Yeller_

* * *

They hadn't had much down time to watch movies lately. It had been a month and a half since their last movie night. They'd both been working a lot and Sloan's schedule was packed otherwise. He'd seen her grading papers at work, which she normally didn't do, so her free time must have been jam packed. No time for even their usual after work late night dinners. Right now, though, they had a break of just a few hours, after Sloan's show and before Don's run down. Sloan suddenly entered his office with a chair from the newsroom and her laptop.

"Scoot over."

"What?" He asked as he looked down at the small space behind his desk. Two chairs could fit but it would be tight.

"Scoot over," she repeated. "We have enough time to watch a movie during the break. I ordered Chinese and I've paid an intern to wait for it downstairs so we don't have to move. I'm tired of this list hanging over my head. Let's do this."

He moved to allow her to fit her chair behind his desk. She set up the laptop and he reached into his bag for the DVD. Luckily, he'd anticipated her impatience. "I rented this on my last meal break. Did you know Blockbuster has a vending machine for renting movies? There's one at the Duane Reade around the corner."

"Blockbuster is grasping at straws. Outerwall is where it's at. They own video rental kiosks now. Redbox is gonna take over the world," Sloan said dismissively as she put in the DVD. She glanced at the case and then gave Don a horrified look. "Old Yeller? You're making me watch Old Yeller?"

"Yes, this way we get it over with early. Like ripping off a Band-Aid," Don assured her.

"More like ripping duct tape off of a cute and innocent puppy," Sloan told him as the movie started.

"You've got experience with that, do you?" Don asked sarcastically.

"Shut up."

"Sure."

He let the movie play for about twenty minutes and watched Sloan nervously chew on her nail. She knew basically what was coming but she'd never watched it unfold. He'd watched her yell at Charlie and Zane and confront a lying translator in Japanese and never in all of those times did she look as worried as she did now.

"It's a movie, Sloan," Don said with a soft smile. "It can't actually hurt you."

"It can make me feel things which is basically the same," she told him.

"As a reward for suffering through it I'll buy you waffles after work tonight," Don told her with a chuckle.

"Oh, I would but I can't," she told him apologetically. "I have a meeting with some of our IT guys tonight."

"A meeting with IT?" Don asked. "About what?"

"Personal stuff. They're helping me with my Christmas shopping."

He laughed. "You're using our IT department for free advice on Christmas gifts?"

"Yes, Don. They love me down there," she told him. "I'm a delight."

"So you've said," Don told her with a grin and a shake of his head.

"This movie, however, is not," Sloan told him. "Everything is so happy so far but I know it won't last. It's gonna end and it's gonna end bad. Family movies should not be allowed to include the death of a pet! That's what happens right? I've heard the stories."

"Alright, alright," Don said as he tried to sooth her. "Yes, that's what happens but this movie is a right of passage. You have to watch it. It's like a law of every American life."

"You know it's not actually a law, right?" Sloan asked him.

"No, because I'm quite daft," Don said dryly.

"Oh good, I thought you'd never admit it."

He laughed and shook his head at her. "Fuck you, Sabbith."

"No, fuck you, Don. You're the one putting me through this torture," she said with a playful glare. "This will be the one and only time I will ever watch this movie. Clear?"

"Crystal," Don told her with a grin.


	4. Chapter 4

_Ordinary People_

* * *

So far they'd managed at least one film a month. They were in a new year now and they'd managed to find time for a movie in January by some miracle. They'd watched Life is Beautiful in January and Sloan had lectured him for months on how turning genocide into a fable was cheap manipulation and somehow made the movie worse. He'd quickly crossed Schindler's List off of his list of tearjerkers because if Life is Beautiful bothered her then the little girl in the red coat certainly would.

Don wasn't quite sure why they only had one of these a month but Sloan's schedule outside of work seemed very full. He wasn't sure why. She didn't discuss it so he didn't ask. He was also getting very good at pretending he didn't have feelings for her. It was rough but practice makes perfect and he'd been practicing a lot.

This month they were watching Ordinary People. The credits started rolling at the end and he heard Sloan sniffle. He was regularly amazed that she let him hear and see her cry. Sloan was very private. Her letting him in solidified their shift from colleagues to friends.

"Okay, I have a whole new perspective on my mother," Sloan said with a sigh and another sniffle. He handed her the box of Kleenex on her coffee table and smiled affectionately at her.

"You see now why sad movies are important?" He asked pointedly.

"A little," Sloan admitted. He could tell it pained her to say it. "Old Yeller is still uncalled for, though. It's the most unnecessary film and book to ever be created and no one will convince me otherwise."

"I wouldn't dream of trying," Don told her with a smirk. "You hungry?" he asked. Typically they'd grab a bite to eat after but at the start of the question he'd noticed her tense.

"I can't," she said with a sigh. "I have plans. Rain check?"

He nodded. "Yeah, rain check. Hot date?" He asked nervously. Please say no, he thought.

"Sort of," she said with a small smile. "It's a date, at least."

He quirked a brow at her and tried to mask his disappointment and panic. "But not hot?"

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "I guess."

Was it just him or was she being weird? She wasn't telling him something. As smart as she was, she was only mediocre at lying.

"Okay," Don said with a nod. He was pretty certain he gave her an apprehensive glance, but she seemed not to think anything of his reaction so maybe not. "I guess I'll see you on Monday, then?"

She nodded. "Absolutely. You're coming to my rundown meeting, right? Zane's on vacation and you said you would—"

"Fill in," he said as he finished her sentence. "I know. I'll be there. It's you and me for a week."

"Yes," she said with a bright smile as she dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex one last time. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too," he told her with a grin. She had no idea how much.


	5. Chapter 5

_Field of Dreams_

* * *

He didn't know she'd been seeing anyone. He didn't. He knew she'd had a date, but he'd never guessed—

She'd been seeing this guy for nearly seven weeks? When? Why exactly didn't she tell him? He was disappointed yet relieved. As her friend, he'd like to think she was comfortable enough to confide in him but as the man that's over halfway in love with her…he was glad she didn't.

But now, now he wanted to hunt this guy down and hurt him. He wanted to hurt him more than he'd wanted to hurt any person ever. He wanted it so much he scared himself. More than he wanted that, he wanted to shut down this classless website. They didn't deserve pictures of Sloan in any state of dress. He'd avoided the site himself. It was a severe intrusion. Especially for someone as private as Sloan.

But then he didn't have to hurt the man. Sloan already did. He was insanely proud. She'd gotten up off the matt and fired back strong. That fucking jackass deserved it. Sloan had retreated to her office as soon as they entered the AWM building, after she'd taken out her rage on her ex boyfriend. Don had taken the moment to order take out and retrieve a film from his bag. He'd gotten it before the pictures of Sloan had made their way online.

It was a slightly happier sad film though so it turns out luck had been on his side when he picked it. He waited for the food before going to her office, to give her a moment alone. He found her sitting at her desk with her forehead in her hands and her eyes closed. Don knocked softly on the glass door.

She looked up to reveal red puffy eyes and based on the emotion that was in them he knew exactly what he was walking in on.

"What you did was a proportionate response," Don immediately assured her. She was feeling remorse. He knew she'd feel it eventually. "Completely justified retaliation."

"Why did I feel the need to respond at all?" She asked as she quickly wiped her eyes. "I should have just left it alone. I beat him up, Don!"

"In a spectacular fashion," Don added with a smirk.

She took a moment and stared at him thoughtfully before she let out a watery laugh. "It really was spectacular, wasn't it?"

"Having met him, I can now tell you that he was a fucking idiot and never deserved you. He did, however, deserve to have his ass kicked by you," Don told her with certainty.

"Thank you," Sloan said with a small half hearted smile. "You brought food?"

He nodded. "I figured given the stupidity and insanity of today you might be—"

"God yes, I'm starving," She said immediately as she got up from her desk and took the bag of food from him. "This is all for me, right?"

"Actually I thought I—you know what, sure. Why not?" Don said with a shrug.

She smirked at him teasingly and then chuckled. "Kidding. Have a seat, Donald."

"Sabbith, I swear if you call me that one more—"

"What are you going to do exactly?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing. You scare me to death."

She laughed, her real laugh, and Don felt everything in him relax. He loved her laugh. He loved being the one to make her laugh. It wasn't easy to do, he knew, so anytime he succeeded it felt oddly victorious.

"I, um, I brought a movie," he said as he held up the DVD case.

"Oh no," Sloan said with a shake of her head. "Haven't I cried enough for one day?"

"No, no, this is a good sad movie."

"That sounds like an oxy-moron," Sloan pointed out.

"Just trust me," Don said with a chuckle. "You'll like it."

"At this point you're one of the handful of people left that I do trust," Sloan admitted with a sigh before she looked up and smiled weakly at him. She pulled out her personal laptop and held her hand out for the DVD case. "Let's do this."


	6. Chapter 6

_Shawshank Redemption_

* * *

The movie nights had gone from once a month to at least twice a month, sometimes more if something particularly stressful happened to Sloan or himself. Genoa had fallen into that category lately. With this particular story, The Red Team felt like an unbearable weight. They had to be hard on the story. This story was full of serious accusations that would result in the United States being guilty of War Crimes. But what if they weren't hard enough on the story or the facts? It was a fear he knew they both shared. So, occasionally, they needed a movie night to take the edge off.

Tonight was one of those occasions. The second Red Team meeting was scheduled for tomorrow. If the story was ready then it could air within the month or the week and then the world would probably fall down around them (and because of them.)

So, he'd brought Shawshank Redemption and Jiffy Pop to Sloan's apartment. To his surprise, she'd been completely engrossed in this movie from the moment it started. He never would have expected that.

"I love this fucking movie so much," Sloan said as she placed the large bowl of popcorn in her lap and hoarded it for herself. "Does Red seem like a combination of Charlie and Will to you? He does to me."

Don shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I could see that."

"Oh no," Sloan said as brought her thumbnail to her lips. "Did he just ask for rope? Don, why did he ask for rope? If this movie ends with suicide, I swear to God I will beat you up."

"Me?" Don asked with a laugh. "Why?"

"This stupid list was your idea."

"You just said you loved this movie."

"But I won't if Andy kills himself."

"Will you just watch the movie? You'll find out."

"No, because if he commits suicide I don't want to watch it anymore, Keefer!"

"We're not stopping now. We're too far in. You're past the point of no return, Sabbith."

"I hate this fucking movie so much," Sloan told him as she purposefully mirrored her initial statement.

"Wow, that must have been a dramatic five minutes of internal monologue for you," Don said with a smirk as he took a handful of popcorn form the bowl in her lap.

"You have no idea."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. His "stupid list" was worth every glare, curse, and playful punch (that actually hurt a lot) if it meant he ended up spending more time alone with her.


	7. Chapter 7

Kramer vs. Kramer

* * *

Genoa was airing tomorrow night. The scariest and most unbelievable story Don had ever heard appeared to have actually happened and they were set to blow that shit wide open in 24 hours. He sat in his office staring blankly at his computer monitor. He believed he had an obligation as a journalist to hold the government accountable for their actions but this story…

This story was massive. It had the potential to shake up the whole world like it was a damn snowglobe and they were responsible for it. If they didn't handle it perfectly then no one would trust ACN ever again. It was a lot to take in and it left him feeling very nervous, very jittery, and like he might eat his fucking desk.

There was a knock at his door and Sloan let herself in. "Come on."

"What?" Don asked.

"I'm getting you out of here," Sloan told him. "I'm getting both of us out of here."

"I shouldn't. I need to verify that—"

"There is nothing left you can do to prepare Genoa. The pretapes are done and the story is in the can. All that's left to do is air it and direct Will while he anchors tomorrow. You have no reason to pull an all nighter. So, I'm abducting you."

"You're kidnapping me?"

"Kidnapping is for children. You're an adult, Don. Deal with it."

"Where are we going?"

"The theater around the block from my apartment."

"Where we saw Titanic?" He asked.

"Yes, they're showing Kramer vs Kramer tonight. I've heard it's sad."

"Yeah, I'd say so. Do people actually regularly attend this theater near your apartment?" Don asked in surprise. "Because they seem to show some questionable films."

"Since they're still open, I would assume yes," she told him.

"How?" He asked her with a shake of his head.

"Because idiots like us buy tickets," Sloan said with a chuckle. "We should really go though, I forgot tissues so I need to buy some on the way."

"You could steal some from the office supply closet," Don reminded her.

She made a disgusted face and shook her head. "Those tissues are cheap, thin, and scratchy. No thanks. Oh! We should get waffles after."

"Shouldn't we sleep?" Don asked her with a grin.

"Sleep is overrated."

"It really isn't," Don told her.

"Who needs it?"

"Literally everyone. Every single person on the planet."

"Not us. We're journalists. All we need is a pot of coffee and a responsibility to inform the electorate."

"And food and sleep and clothes and—"

"Nope," Sloan disagreed. "Pot of coffee and informing the electorate."

He chuckled and nodded. "Sure."

"So, movie and waffles it is then?" Sloan said as she beamed at him eagerly.

"Why the hell not? It's not like I'd actually do any sleeping tonight anyway, right?" Don told her with a smirk.


End file.
